


She Takes Lunch

by OnwardHo (rayoflight)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayoflight/pseuds/OnwardHo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another kink meme fill</p><p>'Spock/Uhura  Anything. Anything at all!'</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Takes Lunch

 

Cadet Uhura always takes her lunch in his office. It's quieter and she can multi-task without distraction; a bite of canjeero here, a phonetic translation there.

She hasn't been flirting exactly, but there's something about her openness, her willingness to smile and fully engage that tends to give that impression. Or perhaps, it's just the wishful thinking of her fellow cadets. Hell, she even gives the ever-persistent (and yes cute) Kirk as well as he gives. He's not a bad guy, despite the peskiness, but she has no idea that even her eating habits can be considered an erotic display, when viewed by a particular party...  
  
A one Lieutenant Commander Spock, her professor and mentor, whom she's is currently assisting. As usual, he is busily engaged with a large stack of padds.  
  
She's opening a container of plain soy yogurt. Spock's sensitive ears perk at the familiar *pop*ing sound, knowing an activity will follow which he always finds himself raptly observing. Cadet Uhura never notices this because he is not rude. He knows that humans are uncomfortable with open staring, so he watches from the corner of his eye, while he continues to scan his students' padds.  
  
He too, is adept at multi-tasking.   
  
She opens her bag and retrieves a honey dispenser shaped like a Terran species, a mawkish rendering of an animal similar in appearance to that of his deceased pet.

' _Ursidae_ ', he plucks from the organized catalogue that is his mind.

She squeezes the odd-looking condiment and allows the viscous sweetener to pool atop her yogurt. She smiles and snaps it closed.   
  
Then, ( _his favorite_ ) she sweeps a manicured fingertip along the edge of the closure where there is always a leakage of honey. -Spock takes a moment to contemplate the inefficiency of such a design and then stops cold when she slips the honeyed forefinger between her lips, cleaning it thoroughly without even the smallest smack.  
  
She makes a most pleasing - _mmm_ -ing sound, low enough that he's certain other humans probably would not have heard, in his position. But  _he_  hears it and  _feels_  it, the low vibrations affecting him in ways other sounds do not. He realizes that he's read the same line of text six times and moves on to the next.  
  
Nyota then retrieves a black plastic spoon from her satchel and begins to eat. Her eyes remain glued to her own padd and yet still there is careful precision, even in this. Each spoonful disappears completely into her mouth with great ease. -Not a trace of yogurt left on her spoon nor her lips.  
  
Again, watching this action affects him physically and he notes his tightening slacks.   
  
Grossly inappropriate and disrespectful of her immense talent and position, he suppresses this like all other emotions in her presence -and also during his regular meditation sessions.

...or triesto.  
  
Sometimes he dwells, instead, upon these particular actions. He deduces that it is the similarity between this action and the sexual act of fellatio that fascinates him. He has spent far too much time contemplating how Cadet Uhura would appear while performing such an act on his person.

-How it might  _feel_.  

On forty-nine seperate occasions.  
  
And he would inevitably find himself in hand, gripping himself, imagining her wine-tinted lips wrapped around his penis instead of that plastic eating utensil and the _-mmm-_  sound she might make then.   
  
He would move his thumb over the glans and back across the frenulum, imagining her tongue delicately flickering in it's place. A clipped gasp would escape his lips and he would move his hand faster, squeeze himself harder. Other images would flash forth, the sheen of her shapely legs and thighs, the glimpse of white panty he was once gifted with when she got on her hands and knees to retrieve a stylus that had rolled under her desk.

' _nyota!_ -'

Another deep gasp, and the last flash he sees as he comes are those wide clear eyes staring into his own, dark and shining with some unnamed emotion just for him...  
  
She's finished.

He hears the gentle scrap at the bottom of her container and glances up just in time to catch her licking the lid. Her small pink tongue aptly circling the rim. He blinks hard at this. She's far from ill-mannered, but he recognizes this as a sign that she lets her guard down around him, becoming comfortable and informal as if she were at home. It pleases him that she can be so, in his presence.  
  
She looks up and catches him watching. Those wide eyes for a second and then a smile.

"I'm sorry, I should have offered you some, but it's my favorite."  
  
"Indeed." He says, as his eyebrows involuntarily twitch.


End file.
